


Hairstyles!!!

by Solarcat



Category: Fantastic Four (Ultimateverse), Spider-Man (Ultimateverse)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-30
Updated: 2007-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solarcat/pseuds/Solarcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You gave me a mohawk, didn't you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hairstyles!!!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wachey](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=wachey).



> Written for a prompt from Wachey.

Peter sighed in satisfaction, leaning back against Johnny's warm, wet chest as his boyfriend's nimble fingers massaged shampoo into his hair. It had been a rough day, and he was more than a little willing to allow Johnny to take care of him for a while. The position made his ministrations slightly more awkward, but Johnny wasn't complaining so Peter did what he pleased. The rhythmic pressure, strong but gentle, being careful with him even though Johnny knew he didn't break easily… Peter was half asleep when the slow, circular motions ceased and Johnny's hands slid straight up the sides of his head. He felt the slight movement of Johnny's chest - he was trying not to laugh but was dangerously close to failing. Peter huffed.

"You gave me a mohawk, didn't you?" He tried to project an air of offended dignity, but he knew his voice was too fond to pull it off. Johnny's shampoo-slick hands slid around him, leaving trails of fluffy bubbles along his sides and middle as Johnny's chin came to rest on his shoulder.

"Maybe." A kiss, just under his ear. Peter smirked, running his own hands over the shampoo mohawk and coming away with two big handfuls of suds - how much shampoo had Johnny _used_, anyway? Johnny's choice of chin rest made his head easily locatable, and Johnny snorted as the suds were deposited firmly in his hair. Peter turned in his grip - not hard to do, considering the current lack of friction between them.

Johnny smiled indulgently as Peter went to work, encouraging the foam along and spreading it through, his fingers mimicking what had so recently been done to _him_. The bubbles multiplied quickly, and Peter set about separating the mess into several large spikes that stuck out from the sides, top and back of Johnny's head.

"Done?" Johnny asked, quirking an eyebrow as Peter stepped back slightly to admire his handiwork.

"Mm-hmm. You're gorgeous," he joked, his eyes shining in the diffused light of the steam-filled bathroom. He trailed a hand down Johnny's chest, watching as the bubbles slid further down, pausing around his navel then continuing onward to be caught in the thatch of his pubic hair. He was half hard, in that comfortable state of anticipatory arousal that often accompanied - and ended - their shared showers. Peter grinned impishly as he allowed his fingers to follow the suds down, running a slippery palm over the length of Johnny's cock and feeling it plump and harden under his touch. Johnny groaned, canting his hips forward into the contact and tilting his head back.

Into the spray of the shower behind him.

A cascade of shampoo bubbles streamed down his face and into his open mouth. He choked and spluttered, wrenching away from Peter and further into the spray as he fought to clear the suds away from his stinging eyes and rinse the taste off his tongue. Once he was sufficiently de-sudsed, he turned to glare at Peter, who was guffawing at the other end of the sizeable shower enclosure, his hair still sticking up in the mohawk Johnny had put it in - though it had wilted slightly as the bubbles dissipated.

"That wasn't funny," he accused, pouting. When Peter showed no sign of remorse, he scowled and stalked over - a whole two steps, but it was the principle of the thing that mattered - seizing Peter around the waist as he was immobilized by his own laughter and swinging him around into the water. Johnny only barely kept his footing on the wet tile.

"He-!" Peter's indignant cry was cut off as he, too, fought with a massive fall of suds into his face. The mohawk dissolved instantly under the force of the shower, leaving Peter's hair plastered to his skull. His expression was vaguely reminiscent of that of a wet cat. Johnny, his survival instincts kicking in, put his hands up, palms outward in a warding gesture.

"Truce?" He put on what he hoped was an appropriate smile for the occasion, part "gotcha!", part "sorry", part "I love you, you know, even when you look like you want to hurt me".

Peter glowered a moment longer, but his face quickly softened. He reached out and grabbed Johnny's forearm, tugging him back under the warm water. He wondered how much the Baxter Building's water bill had gone up since he and Johnny had started dating, then decided he really didn't want to know, and at the moment, he didn't care.


End file.
